


Burn a Light

by Jarakrisafis



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:49:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25317835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jarakrisafis/pseuds/Jarakrisafis
Summary: Gorim isn't going to the surface. He swore to follow Sereda and he will not break that oath. AKA They find happiness with the Legion of the Dead. So there.
Relationships: Female Aeducan/Gorim Saelac
Comments: 5
Kudos: 4





	Burn a Light

**Author's Note:**

> Original prompt from https://dragonage-kink.dreamwidth.org/80751.html?thread=332717423#cmt332717423

**Shaper Czibor**

There is a crowd gathered around the Assembly entrance. Any dwarf with the rank, or the gold, to gain access to the Diamond quarter appears to have gathered to hear the sentence be read out. This is not the first time I have made such pronouncements, not every scandal of the noble kind ends with death. There are occasionally guilty parties that need to be dealt with. The crowd is simply so large because this scandal is from the Royal family. Lord Trian slain at the hands of his sister, Lady Sereda and King Endrin so bereft he has retired into mourning. Lord Bhelen has been left, despite being barely of age, to oversee the Assembly in his father’s absence.

The crowd goes silent as I step out from the Assembly Hall. I take the time to look over the gathered Dwarves, ensuring that there are enough guards around. I stare over them all, the fact that the one that is to be sentenced is not here is obvious to me. Sereda is not present as it would not be safe to bring her here, no telling what she may do or what others may try to do to her. I still speak as if she is in front of me, for there is a way that these things must follow. “Sereda, of House Aeducan, Daughter of King Endrin. It is the determination of the Assembly that you deliberately and with malicious intent did attack your brother, Trian, Of House Aeducan, Heir of King Endrin. You are stripped of your House and are sentenced to walk the deep roads. You no longer exist in this place.”

The crowd is silent for a long moment, quiet chatter breaks out sweeping through the masses as they contemplate what that will mean for the kingdom. It is not as easy as if she had died in battle, there are contingencies for that and taking her place is honourable. After this, it will not be an easy position to fill for a little while till the crowd starts to forget. It is a good thing most do not have as long a memory as the Shaper’s do or their would be a lot of unfilled positions. 

The next sentence is easier. Sereda’s second is waiting under a guard from his own House, his hands bound as he awaits the judgement that has been decided upon. I turn to him, waiting till the crowd quiets again. “Gorim, of House Saelac, Second to Sereda. It is the determination of the Assembly that you were not aware of your charge’s deception and plans. You are to be exiled to the surface.”

It is an easy sentence. The lightest that could be expected even. His house will take no blame for the faults of the kinslayer he was serving. He will have three days to gather whatever he wishes to take with him and remove himself from Orzammar. He can however keep his name, his house will be able to provide him a way to set up above ground, if they have the contacts or the gold, which I presume they do.

His father looks relieved as he nods at two of his house to untie his son. Providing he doesn’t stay beyond the three days he will not even need to remain under guard. He has been absolved of any crimes beyond not being intelligent enough to notice the plotting. The younger member are equally as relieved, they will not be working against a black mark on their House that could damage their chances at gaining a good position.

Gorim himself, I can’t read as easily, his expression is still set in the grim countenance it took on when Sereda’s sentence was read out. I would guess that he is more than likely angry that she’s cost him so much. It’s not a complaint I’m unfamiliar with. Too many memories tell of a high House falling from grace and detail how many they take with them.

He flexes his hands as they are freed and I can see the shape of his thoughts working quickly as he glances round, his face still grim, but there’s a smile on his lips that I can’t understand. “Watch out!” My warning is too late as he slips the nearest knife free from the belt it is attached to, it’s owner whirling round before taking a prudent step backwards and out of range.

Yet the only blood that hits the floor is his own. 

I don’t need to hear the next words he will speak to know what he is doing. He closes his eyes, letting the blade clatter to the floor to join the blood dripping off his arm, ignoring the sudden hush around him, the almost silent “Gorim, no,” from his father.

“Blood and Stone, hear me. Burn a light on the hearth for my passing, the dead are calling me to fight.”

Ah. Knowledge shifts into a new path and I see his expression for what it is. I bow my head. “It will be entered into the memories that Gorim Saelac passed to the Stone at this hour, he will fight on in death as he did in life.”

**Antrim Saelac**

“Gorim. Evening.” It feels strange to address him without the accolades he worked hard for, but dead men don’t have need for ranks any more. “I didn’t think to see you here.” I leave it unspoken that he is due elsewhere as the end of the day closes in. I can’t help but admire him a little. I’m not sure I’d want to continue fighting. Then again, he was born into the right caste, a perfect warrior. Myself, I think, tales of the endless sky notwithstanding, I’d like it up there. No one would look askance at me for wanting to create pretty jewellery instead of swing a sword.

“I came to let Sereda know of my passing.” He says, hands settled firmly on his belt as he waits. Also strange, to see him in a plain tunic. He looks somehow smaller, older almost without the armour he usually wears. He still has the symbol of his House on his breast. He’ll lose that tonight as they apply the tattoos he’s chosen. We don’t know each other well, we’re only cousins, but it feels wrong to know what’s coming and yet ignore it. It is what it is though.

I hum. “You know she is to have no visitors. I can check on her and let you know how she is.” I unhook the keys from my belt, the rattle loud in the otherwise silent room. His eyes track them with a barely hidden longing before he comes to a decision and nods. His resignation clear over the hope that he had, that he might be allowed to go on through.

“Will you pass on a message for me?” He asks, shifting his weight a little.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. I need to nip out to the necessary.” I say as I open the outer door to the cells and flick my head at the open door. He’s not slow on the uptake, his eyes widening, and he looks like he might say something before he clamps his mouth shut and slips through before I close the door again.

I take my time sorting my business, adding in a quick check on the other rows of cells, making sure the other prisoners are all in order. The heavy doors stop any sound passing through so there will be nothing to arouse suspicions that Sereda is anything other than sequestered in isolation as I was ordered to keep her until the Shaper arrives to formally give her the sentence that was passed.

Eventually though I run out of other jobs and have to return to them, after all, every moment he stays is time the Shaper could arrive. I open the door slowly, letting it swing open on well oiled hinges. Neither of them appear to notice me and I let out a soft, “oh.” Arms threaded through the bars and foreheads pressed together, they’re the very picture of lovers about to be separated. That makes things so much clearer. “Gorim.” I call softly, watching the reluctance with which he pulls away and strides back to me. The door shuts with a dull clang.

“Thank you.” He doesn’t look back as he strides out.

**Shaper Czibor**

She’s calm. Far too calm. I have a feeling she’s already spoken to a dead man. She seems entirely unmoved by her sentence. Most do not simply accept banishment without even a twitch. Strange how solid spirits seem to be able to get through a locked door, I’ll have to tell the guard to be more vigilant.

“Do remember your lessons Sereda.” She seems startled at that, eyes narrowing as she crosses her arms. Clearly unsure what I am talking about, or perhaps that I am still talking to her. She knows exactly what her sentence means.

“Lessons on what?” She asks warily.

“I was thinking you could remember the discussions we had not too many months back, as you were readying yourself to take your first commission.” I pull a small folded parchment out from beneath my tunic, passing it through the bars with a raised eyebrow.

She takes it without a word, flicking it open and I catch a glance of her own script, my own overwriting and correcting it where needed, the tunnels of the deep roads are clearly marked; and then the indrawn breath as she realises what I’ve given her. “I’ll do my best to remember such lessons.” She finally says, her hand shaking as she folds what was once a lesson in memorising the tunnels around Orzammar and pushes it up a sleeve.

I nod. “See that you do. As I will no longer remember you.” I can’t wait for a reply. I turn away before I can see any response. I loved her. Always eager to learn and blessedly free of the politics of her caste. Her only goal was to keep Orzammar safe. I know in my heart she is not guilty, a victim of the politics she tried so hard to avoid. It is unfair that I have to wipe every moment of her presence from the records.

That’s the way of life. And I have a duty to do.

**Legionnaire**

“What are you doing?” I ask as the warrior who introduced himself as Gorim stops to create a small pyramid of stones beside the path. This is the fourth one he’s made and it’s finally peaked my interest enough to ask.

He ignores me, finishing the delicate balancing act before standing up and brushing dust off himself. “They sentenced my… friend without giving her a chance to swear to the Legion and get an escort, so I’m leaving markers.”

“I would stop and wait if we could.” I say, for another arm against the ‘spawn, especially another like him who is already warrior trained would be a boon. But I have dispatches from King Endrin to Commander Kardol that cannot wait. His friend will have to rely on reading the mysteries of the piled stones that are being created.

Gorim nods, accepting that we cannot stop, another blessing of a warrior caste recruit, they don’t question the structure of the Legion. “If you can keep giving me time to make these, she’ll find us.”

I nod, “aye, that I can work with.”

**Commander Kardol**

Sodding nug humping pit spawned shites. Just for a single shift, even just one patrol, it would be nice if they could just fuck off. I grunt, putting my foot onto the Hurlock so I can drag my axe clear of it’s skull. Might have put a little too much force into that swing. There is such a thing as overkill.

“Look out!” I feel a push against my back, hear the scrape of metal against my armour, any moment I expect to feel the blade push home in a gap between my plating even as I throw myself aside, leaving my axe where it is and drawing my mace clear of my belt. The darkspawn topples to the floor behind me.

“Lovely time for a stroll.”

I blink as the woman breezes past me, collecting a throwing knife from the neck of the darkspawn as she goes. “The fuck.” I mutter to myself. I have no idea who she is, what she’s doing here, or why she thinks throwing herself into the worst of the fighting in only badly fitting leather armour is a good plan.

I follow her with a sigh, not because I particularly think she needs protecting. She could have stayed safe and hidden, I don’t have any sympathy for idiots. It’s just, I’d like her to survive for long enough so I can get my questions answered. It’s so irritating to have mysteries unsolved because somebody had the bad grace to get themselves killed.

Even so, I lose track of her in the press of bodies and I expect I’ll not be getting any answers at all until I turn round and nearly flatten her.

“This yours?” She says as she hands me my axe. “If not, I’ll gladly keep it, it’s really nicely weighted.” She pushes some loose hair out of her eyes. “I’m Sereda, here to join the Legion.” She roots around another darkspawn corpse for a moment, grinning as she produces another decent blade from underneath it. “Oh, I’m looking for Gorim too.”

**Legionnaire**

"And this is where you'll be bunking. We share, so get used to that." It's nothing special, just another area separated by some canvas in a small cavern full of the same little canvas rooms. Once, I am told we had proper rooms and facilities, back before Bownammar was lost. Now this is the best we can do given that we might lose this position too. She'll understand that soon enough.

She nods, putting the well worn pack and rolled up bedding down beside the pallet. So far she's made no comments about anything given to her, usually those of higher caste take a while to adjust to the quality of life here. Food is occasionally scarce, supply lines can be cut off far easier than to Orzammar itself. Most bunk in pairs, both for lack of pallets and for warmth. One thing we're not short on at least is weapons. She seems less bothered about any of that and more concerned with where we are as she is quick to duck out from the canvas and look around again. Her eyes scanning round the cavern we've claimed for sleeping.

"What are you looking for?"

"That obvious was I?" She asks somewhat ruefully as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm just hoping my friend made it here."

"Wait, you're not Gorim's lass are you?" The way she lights up at his name tells me she is indeed the friend the warrior has been waiting for. I could tell her that she's just been assigned, as the last two new members to be sworn in, to bunk together. But I think I'll leave that for them to find out. "Come on." I say instead, "let's go find him and stop your pining."

She follows, a sudden bounce in her step, and if not for my boots being plated she'd have stepped on my feet several times.

**Legionnaire**

"We've banded together to get you a gift." I say to Gorim as I take seat. The others that have helped with the little project follow, grins on every face as we wait.

"For me?” He sounds puzzled as he takes the offered cloth wrapped package.

"Well more for you to own and Sereda to make use of." I just smile serenely at his confused look, blithely ignoring the sudden round of laughter.

We’ve all been suffering since they joined us. Our pallets don’t have walls and while none of us begrudge them their companionship, we just wish they’d be a little less enthusiastic while we’re trying to sleep.

The warrior frowns, giving us all a last narrow eyed gaze before untying the cord and flipping the cloth off.

He then proceeds to very firmly plant his head on the table, the thunk echoing in the small cavern. Sereda leans round him and extracts the item from the packaging and laughs, a wicked gleam in her eyes. "We should go test it. Make sure it's well made." She says with a wide grin, twirling the leather gag on one finger.

"I hate you all." Gorim says to the table.


End file.
